


the road not taken looks real good now

by unwindmyself



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Alternate Universe - The Princess Switch (2018) Fusion, Baking, F/F, Femslash, Gen, Handmaidens, Identity Swap, Life Day (Star Wars), Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: Jemma, better known as Senator Annelie, is home on Naboo for the annual Life Day Arts Festival and happens to meet Daisy, a baker in the festival's famed competition; while disguised as the Senator, her handmaiden Soňa meets and is charmed by visiting Princess Crystalia of Attilan.
Relationships: AIDA (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) & Jemma Simmons, Crystal Amaquelin/Snowflake, Jane Foster & Jemma Simmons, Jane Foster/Thor, Jemma Simmons & Snowflake, Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Kora (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6
Collections: Women of the MCU





	1. a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you read the tags correctly. I decided I wanted to write a gay _Princess Switch_ AU, but there were a couple problems I needed to solve. The closest _SHIELD_ ever gave us to doppelgangers is LMDs, and there's a lot of baggage with that that isn't appropriate for a romcom; I didn't particularly want to invent a fictional European monarchy. My brain's ambitious solution to this was to set the story in the _Star Wars_ universe, specifically on prequel-era Naboo. I like _Star Wars_ , but I'm not exactly an expert on it... with the exception of prequel-era Naboo. My child self LOVED Padmé, so when my adult self discovered there was a whole novel about her first term in the Senate, I lowkey lost my mind. Thanks for _Queen's Shadow_ , E.K. Johnson. I'm going to read the sequel eventually, I swear.
> 
> This fic is basically a combination of that specific novel and _The Princess Switch_ , with a few changes. Jemma was a handmaiden to the queen (who's in her second term now) but was chosen for the Galactic Senate. She has her own handmaidens now, three of them. Assume that most of the basic Naboo-focused events of Episode I took place. Is the Empire still burgeoning? Maybe, in the background, but it's the opposite of relevant to this story. 
> 
> Also, everyone has insane _Star Wars_ names, so here's a list of those (they should be pretty easy to track, pardon the redundancy that is about to follow, but also I put a lot of effort into making them up, so appreciate my nonsense) and also everyone's jobs. I went a little overboard considering how little some of these characters actually factor into the story. Those in italics are only mentioned.  
> Birdie Morrisà, a pilot in the Royal Naboo Security Forces assigned to Jemma; Karīna's partner (Bobbi)  
> Mélinda Měi, a captain employed in the Royal Naboo Security Forces and as head of Jemma's security detail; Màruxa's partner (Melinda)  
> Jemma Annelie Símonía, the Senator from Naboo (Jemma)  
> AIDA, a droid working with Jemma (AIDA)  
> Calla Hanniell, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma (Callie)  
> Abira Jolezka, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma (Abby)  
> Soňa Bliss, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma (Snowflake)  
> Jayna Valeria Fòsfore, the current reigning Queen of Naboo (Jane) ~~I couldn't resist the joke~~  
>  _An'twon Triumph, the Senator from Alderaan (Trip)  
>  Dariya Luděk, a handmaiden and decoy for Jayna (Darcy)_  
> Daisy Shao, a Force-sensitive baker from Naboo; Kora's sister (Daisy)  
> Kora Shao, a Force-sensitive baker from Naboo; Daisy's sister (Kora)  
> Gratian Warinhard, a baker from Tythe (Ward)  
>  _Màruxa Hillevie, an officer of the Royal Naboo Security Forces; Mélinda's partner (Maria)  
>  Karīna Pal’las, a historian from Naboo; Birdie's partner (Kara)_  
> Crystalia Amaquelin, the Princess of Attilan; Medusalith's sister(Crystal)  
> Medusalith Amaquelin, the Queen of Attilan; Crystalia's sister (Medusa) - also, heads up, I don't like Medusa and she's here to get dragged.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and hers arrive back on Naboo; Daisy and Kora get ready to bake.

“Should be smooth sailing from here on out,” Birdie calls from the cockpit.

“I hope so,” Mélinda says wryly. “We’re headed back for Life Day, not flying into a battle.”

Jemma chuckles to herself. Her favorite pilot and her head of security have an easy rapport with each other, something she’s thankful for; she encourages that among all of her staff, from them to her handmaidens to her droid AIDA (currently preserving their power, since the ship has plenty of mechanical elements itself). It’s easier to work with someone, especially in dangerous circumstances, when you’d stand beside them for reasons greater than just duty.

That’s something she learned the importance of during Naboo’s struggle with the Trade Federation: she and Queen Valeria’s other handmaidens had signed up to do their duty, no matter what, but their genuine affection for the queen and for each other is what got them through the toughest parts of the occupation. Jemma had hoped to achieve that same dynamic when she selected her own staff and headed to Coruscant, and now, at the end of the first term in the Senate, she feels confident that she succeeded.

It’s odd, needing handmaidens instead of being one, but her girls are one of Jemma’s favorite parts of being Senator Annelie. They’re a strange bunch, compared to the polished group serving the queen, but she’s deeply fond of them. Calla had gone through training with Jemma and the others at the beginning of Queen Valeria’s reign but barely missed the cut, but Abira had been too young then and only barely seems old enough now, and Soňa is by her own admission too wild to be considered for any kind of royal appointment. (There’s a greater need for sneaky and illicit behavior on Coruscant, and that’s where Soňa thrives.) They all get along, though, and they bring a different perspective to events on the Senate and the galaxy, and that’s what Jemma needs.

“What are we going to do first once we land?” Abira asks eagerly.

“ _I_ plan to speak with the queen,” Jemma says, and then she smiles gently. “If you want to join me, you’re welcome to, but I can’t ask you to attend me through your entire vacation. You three need the rest as much as I do.”

Abira shrugs and averts her eyes. “You know I don’t mind,” she says. “There’s nowhere else for me to be.” She doesn’t often speak of it, but she lost her parents during the occupation and now regards Jemma and the others as her family.

Jemma lays a comforting hand on Abira’s shoulder. “Still, you’re welcome to take as much time to yourself as you need,” she says. “I’m perfectly capable of making conversation by myself.”

“I’ll consider it,” Abira says, which means she’ll be tagging along at Jemma’s side regardless.

“I want to go wander the festival awhile, if that’s alright,” Calla offers. “I know a few of the exhibitors from my school days, I want to see what trouble they’ve gotten into.”

“Of course it’s alright!” Jemma exclaims, beaming. (She’s also still adjusting to being the technical boss of anyone.) “The Arts Festival is one of our planet’s most dynamic traditions. I want to explore it myself, once I have some time.”

Soňa grins. “We can always _make_ time for you,” she points out. They haven’t done a full decoy maneuver in several weeks (it’s less necessary for a senator than it is for a queen) and she hasn’t had a turn in even longer than that. Besides, she knows it’s good for Jemma’s mental well-being. Though you’d never think it to look at her, she’s the one of them who’s most conscious of such things.

“Perhaps,” Jemma says. “I do want to have some time with the queen, but…”

“But?” Soňa prompts.

“But it would be nice to get to drop some of the formalities for a little while,” Jemma admits. “Or the worries about my safety.”

Mélinda appears beside the group, like she always seems to when security is being discussed (it’s her job, after all). “You always have to worry about that a little,” she points out, not unkindly. She manages to protect without being patronizing, which Jemma appreciates greatly. “But you can take care of yourself if it comes to that, and hopefully none of your enemies have followed you home for the holiday.”

* * *

“Jemma!” the queen exclaims as she enters the solarium. “Abira, Soňa, Calla. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Jayna,” Jemma murmurs, opening her arms in an invitation for a hug.

It’s funny, Abira thinks, watching them play their different roles so seamlessly (and realizing that she’s learned to do the same). The woman before them is known to the galaxy as Valeria, the queen who heroically resisted the Trade Federation’s machinations, but to the lucky few - which Jemma, being one of her former handmaidens, certainly is - she’s just Jayna, an idealist and loyal friend.

“You look well,” Jayna says, regarding Jemma and the others. “The Senate hasn’t driven you completely crazy yet?”

“It’s come close,” Jemma admits, laughing, “but we’re making do. It’s certainly not the life I imagined for myself, but I like being able to make a difference, even if it’s in an indirect way.”

“You’ve been doing that awhile, Jemma,” Jayna points out gently. She doesn’t press, because they both know she’s referring to the actions she and the other handmaidens took during the occupation, things that were necessary and bravely undertaken but left understandable lingering trauma. Jemma, for her part, let herself get captured so the others could go free, and she still hasn’t shared all of the details of what happened in the two days before she was rescued. Jayna takes extra care with Jemma because of it, like now, when she squeezes Jemma’s hand and points out, “You’re continuing to make Naboo proud.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Jemma whispers, sounding almost shy for a moment. 

Abira and Calla pretend to be interested in the solarium’s new stained-glass windows, letting the moment be private, but Soňa watches with slightly unnerving interest. She’s very mindful of intense emotions. She also knows when to let them end, though, and she doesn’t like to let Jemma be sad for too terribly long, so she says, “We’re all so excited for the festival.”

“I’m so glad,” Jayna says. “I haven’t looked around too much yet, but it’s shaping up to be one of the most promising exhibitions we’ve had in ages.”

“I don’t know how it could be anything but,” Jemma says.

Abira grins. “We could get gifts for your new friends,” she suggests eagerly. “I’m sure there’s something here that An’twon would love.”

“Oh?” Jayna asks, eyebrow raising. “Who’s An’twon?”

“The senator from Alderaan,” Jemma says with a shrug. “He’s been a great help getting me comfortable in the Senate.”

“He’s _very_ pretty, too,” Soňa chimes in, grinning.

“Do I have to swear to ruin him if he hurts you?” Jayna asks wryly, just like a big sister might.

“Of course not,” Jemma exclaims, rolling her eyes. “We’re just friends, don’t be absurd. He’s very pleasant to look at, but even if I _was_ interested in him in that way, which I’m _not_ , he’s got a partner.”

“All right, all right, I didn’t mean to assume,” Jayna says quickly. “Blame Dariya, she’s been worrying about your social life since you left.”

“I didn’t go to Coruscant to be a socialite,” Jemma scoffs, though she’s not surprised by this explanation (of her former fellow handmaidens, Dariya is easily the one who’s most concerned with such things).

“No, but she doesn’t want you to be out there all alone,” Jayna says gently. “None of us do.”

“I’m not alone,” Jemma says stubbornly, waving at her companions. “An’twon is a good friend, and I have the girls, and Birdie, and even Mélinda and AIDA. I don’t have _time_ for romance. You should understand.”

“I do,” Jayna says. “Obviously, you have your work to focus on. But don’t spend too much time as Senator Annelie that you forget to take care of Jemma, alright?”

* * *

“The mixer is in your crate, right?” Daisy asks, starting to rummage through one of the boxes they brought from the bakery. 

“Not anymore,” Kora replies with a smug smile, setting the item in question on the counter. “You really ought to relax, yeah? We’ve got this handled.”

Daisy glances around their station, then at the other teams setting up at the miniature kitchens in the studio. They’re one of six teams who made it to the final round of the Arts Festival’s showpiece cake-baking contest, and one of only two teams that’s actually based on Naboo. They’re also the youngest by far - while Naboo encourages its citizens to explore creative interests from a young age, it seems that many of the other nearby planets prefer to be represented by older and more experienced beings. “I just don’t want to get arrogant,” Daisy says.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Kora jokes. “Your overconfidence is one of the things I love about you, Dais. And it’s not like we’re unsuccessful.”

“I know,” Daisy sighs, “I just feel like -”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” a stranger interrupts. Daisy spins around to see one of their competitors, a tall human man with a smug smile who (if memory serves) hails from Tythe. “Gratian Warinhard. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ah…?”

Both Daisy and Kora resist the urge to roll their eyes, but Kora recovers first and says, “Kora Shao, and this is my little sister Daisy. This is our first time entering the competition.”

“Oh, you’re the local girls,” Gratian croons. “How sweet. I don’t remember the last time this competition let in entrants with so little formal training. I guess your little bakery is supposed to speak for itself.”

Kora clenches her fists, and Daisy notices (Gratian doesn’t) that her eyes flash gold for a moment. That’s not something that’s supposed to happen in polite (or strange) company, so Daisy steps in front of her sister and says, “Apparently it did, because we’re here. Move along.”

“Relax,” Gratian laughs. “I’m just having a little fun with you. Don’t be so sensitive.”

But Daisy and Kora keep glaring at him, so after a moment he holds up his hands and backs off.

“What a mug,” Kora mutters, shaking her head.

Daisy nods, but her bravado seems to have vanished now that she’s not having to stand up to him directly. “You gonna be okay if I go take a walk?” she asks. “I think I need to get some air.”

“Yeah, of course,” Kora says sympathetically. “See you soon?”

“Soon,” Daisy agrees, smiling shakily at her sister before heading out of the studio.

* * *

Abira and Calla disappear after a while, presumably with the intention of exploring the festival, and soon enough Jayna is summoned for a meeting with visiting monarchs from Attilan and Asgard (both of which, Jemma knows, are still fairly new to the Republic and still trying to find their footing), leaving Jemma and Soňa alone in the solarium.

“Is it strange being back?” Soňa asks, tilting her head. Unlike the other handmaidens, she’s not from Naboo; Mélinda saw her lurking around in a Coruscanti nightclub and recruited her to the team, citing the need for someone who’d be willing to work outside the law occasionally.

Jemma sighs. “A bit,” she says. “I associate the palace with being part of the queen’s team, working at her side and in support of her with the others. It’s strange being here, but not in anyone’s shadow.”

Soňa tilts her head. “Your girls work different than hers, huh?” she asks, even though she figured that out long ago. No queen would hire _her_ , after all.

“Yes, but that’s not bad,” Jemma says. “It’s just hitting me very strongly all of a sudden. I’m not used to being in the spotlight when I’m here. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Aw, you’re nervous,” Soňa coos. 

“It’s easier to pretend to be confident around people who haven’t seen me at my most timid,” Jemma corrects. “It feels more like pretending here, in point of fact.”

“You wanna get out for a little while?” Soňa asks. “Calm down some, maybe?”

“I don’t know if we should,” Jemma says. “Mélinda is already with Màruxa, she’ll be off-comms. Birdie’s with Karīna, too, isn’t she?” The guard and the pilot both went for much-needed time with their girlfriends the minute they were off the ship.

“Yeah, but there’s someone we can check with, you know there is,” Soňa says, grabbing Jemma’s hand. Her mind is already made up. “C’mon.” She pulls Jemma into the quarters they’ve been loaned for their stay, sits her down at the mirror, and calls, “AIDA, you ‘round?”

“Right here, Soňa,” comes AIDA’s smooth, modulated voice. The droid appears from the closet they’ve been hanging Jemma’s traveling outfits in, tilting their head. “What do you need?”

“Jemma needs to switch out for a bit,” Soňa explains.

AIDA gives an understanding, contented hum and immediately starts unpinning Jemma’s hair. “It will almost certainly be safe, the arts festival is historically very secure,” they say. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

Jemma smiles. AIDA had served as an assistant and chaperone of sorts to Jayna’s handmaidens, but they’d offered to accompany Jemma to Coruscant, pointing out that it might be a better use of their more analytical programming. They’re devoted to Jemma, who’s always been happy to help with the little bits of routine maintenance that they require, and they’re as much a part of the family as any of the others. But - “If the point is to remain inconspicuous, I don’t know that you’d be much help,” Jemma points out. 

“I am more sophisticated than most droids, and _much_ more appealing,” AIDA observes, sounding as smug as they’re able. “I’ll keep an eye on Soňa, then. You won’t be too long?”

“Hopefully not,” Jemma says. “I just want to go look around a bit, catch my breath. Soňa should be able to hold down the fort here.”

“Alright,” AIDA says. “Let’s get your clothing changed, then.”

* * *

Daisy makes her way through the studio and out the back exit, and soon she finds a bench across from the carousel. She gets a caf from a nearby vendor and sits, trying to push Gratian Warinhard and his derogatory comments from her mind. It’s like he knew just what she was sensitive about and preyed on it, hoping it would give him an advantage in the competition; if she doesn’t recalibrate her thoughts soon, it might do just that.

She’s idly watching the carousel and sipping her drink when a petite woman drops a bag on the bench beside her. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, “do you mind if I set my things here while I rearrange?”

“Get a little overzealous buying presents for people?” Daisy teases. Then she really looks at her new companion and her jaw drops. She’s beautiful, even - no, especially - with her hair pulled back in a simple braided ponytail and her body hidden by a giant white sweater. “Oh, whoa.”

The woman makes a face, clearly not sure how to react to that reception. “It’s a lot of things, I know,” she says. “I haven’t been home in months. I think my nostalgia got the better of me.”

“Where have you been?” Daisy asks.

“Oh, ah - I’ve been traveling,” the woman says. “For work. I’m a scientist.”

Daisy gives an impressed hum, not giving much thought to her new companion’s awkwardness. She wouldn’t be much better if some stranger started chatting her up, after all. “That’s really something,” she says instead. “Sorry, I’m being incredibly nosy. Hi. I’m Daisy.”

The woman blinks, as if she wasn’t expecting that even after they’ve made all this small-talk, and then she stammers and says, “I’m, ah, I’m Jemma.” She finally meets Daisy’s eyes and manages a real, genuine smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jemma,” Daisy says. Jemma has warm hazel eyes and - _skies_ \- the cutest freckles sprinkled across her skin, and it’s been longer than Daisy cares to admit since she thought about things like that, but it’s very hard not to with this woman next to her. “Are you just home for the holidays, then?”

Jemma nods quickly. “More or less,” she says. “My family doesn’t really celebrate, but I love the Arts Festival. I haven’t found anything else quite like it on - on any of the worlds I’ve visited.”

“There really isn’t,” Daisy agrees. “I was born on Arkanis, and I don’t remember much about it, but my mom says the, uh, lack of culture is a big part of why she left.” A bigger part, Daisy knows, is that her untrained but Force-sensitive mother had been targeted by more than one corrupt military man looking to utilize her abilities and feared the same would happen to her daughters, but that’s much too serious to drop in a first conversation with a cute girl. 

“I’ve never been, but I’ve heard similar things,” Jemma says, tactful as she’s able. “Have you lived here long, then?”

Daisy nods. “Since I was little,” she says. “My sister and I, we opened a bakery on the square last year.”

“Oh!” Jemma exclaims. “That’s lovely! I’ll have to stop in.”

“We’re actually going to be in the baking competition day after tomorrow,” Daisy says, suddenly shy. “She’s inside the studio getting ready, I’m just on a break.” There’s a little edge in her voice when she says it, thinking of the rude competitor that inspired that.

And of course Jemma picks up on this, furrowing her brow and asking, “Is everything alright? You’re suddenly… you seem upset.”

“It’s stupid,” Daisy demurs.

“Who am I going to tell?” Jemma asks, laughing gently. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but…”

“One of the other bakers was trying to intimidate me,” Daisy explains, feeling a little ashamed. “I shouldn’t have let him succeed, but he figured out the right things to say.”

“Well, he sounds like a right rockhead,” Jemma declares, so simply and assuredly that it startles Daisy. “You got this far in the competition, right? You’re clearly just as good as him. I’d venture a guess you’re even better, because you don’t feel like you need to put down others to get some tenuous advantage.” 

“You’re awfully confident in me, considering we just met,” Daisy can’t help but say.

Jemma shrugs. “You wouldn’t be competing if you weren’t good, but what’s more, sometimes I just get a good feeling about people,” she says. Her judgment isn’t perfect, but one of the reasons she gets on in the Senate is that she’s got fairly good instincts about who to trust. “I have a good feeling about you.”

Daisy feels her cheeks grow warm. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I should probably get back inside, but, ah -” She takes a breath, then rushes through the next words. “Would you like to meet tomorrow, midday maybe, and walk around the festival? I haven’t had much of a chance yet.”

She’s expecting a polite rebuttal, but to her surprise, Jemma smiles and says, “I’d like that very much.”

* * *

Soňa is, per AIDA’s suggestion, just sitting around fully made-up in the library. It feels ridiculous, but she’s the backup, this is what she agreed to do. It’s good for Jemma to get out every once in a while, keeps her anxiety down (anxiety is another of those things Soňa is especially mindful of), and Abira and Calla actually have people and things to see onworld. She’ll take one for the team.

AIDA is playing her at dejarik (they’re very tactful about it, but Soňa knows that they’re capable of winning any game, given that their brain is an advanced processing computer) when there comes a knock on the door. Soňa blinks and instinctively adopts her practiced Senator Annelie voice to say, “Hello?”

In seconds a woman pokes her head through the door and gasps. “Oh!” she exclaims. “I’m not bothering you, am I? I think I’ve gotten turned around.”

She’s tall - taller, certainly, than Soňa - with long blonde hair and a gown in a similar shade of yellow, but there’s a certain innocence to her that Soňa finds immediately charming. “Not at all,” Soňa says smoothly, affecting a polite smile. “We’re just passing time. Are you looking for someone?”

The woman shakes her head. “No, well, not some _one_ ,” she says. “My sister told me there was a greenhouse in the palace and suggested I might like to explore it while she has her meeting with the queen, but this isn’t the greenhouse, clearly.”

“No,” Soňa agrees, and before AIDA can caution her against it, she stands and offers her arm. “We’d be happy to show you where it is, though.” We, because technically Soňa doesn’t know where it is, but AIDA obviously does and can walk them there.

The woman takes that arm and a sweet blush colors her cheeks. “Thank you so much,” she says. “This is my first time away from home, and it’s very overwhelming.”

Soňa frowns thoughtfully as they begin to walk. “The palace is very labyrinthine,” she muses. (She knows this is something she can say in-character as the Senator because it’s something she heard Jemma say.)

“It is,” the woman agrees. “It’s beautiful, though. I love all of the architectural detail.”

“Naboo values beauty in all its forms,” Soňa says, unsubtly looking her new companion over.

“Crystalia!” a new voice shouts, and a woman with impossibly long orange hair turns the corner. “There you are. Where did you wander off to this time?”

“I was looking for the greenhouse.” She’s apparently called Crystalia, the blonde woman, and all of the enthusiasm she’d just been showing disappears as she speaks to the other woman. Soňa doesn’t like this one bit. “Like you told me to. Is your meeting over already?”

“Queen Valeria invited us to dine with her,” the redhead says, and then for the first time she notices Soňa standing there and sniffs disdainfully. “Who is _this_?”

AIDA makes a noise that would seem innocent to strangers but that Soňa recognizes as indignance. “This is Senator Annelie Símonía of Naboo,” they say haughtily, any possible reservations about the switch gone. (They’re very protective of Jemma, after all, and that extends to being protective of Jemma’s handmaidens.)

“Oh,” the redheaded woman says, and while her voice is more polite now, her expression stays slightly disdainful. “Greetings.” She looks pointedly at Crystalia.

“And this is Queen Medusalith of Attilan,” Crystalia says after a beat, “my older sister.”

Soňa curtsies politely - she knows that much - and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. AIDA and I were just going to show Crystalia where that greenhouse is.”

“It will have to wait,” Medusalith says, words clipped. “Come along, Crystalia.” She starts off in the direction she came from, clearly expecting Crystalia to follow, but before she does -

“I’ll see you around the palace?” Crystalia chirps. “Tomorrow, maybe?”

“Yes,” Soňa says quickly. “Find me in the library again, and I’ll show you around.”

“Good,” Crystalia says, grinning. “Thank you.”


	2. your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Soňa keep up their switch so they can spend more time with Daisy and Crystalia.

“Soňa!” Jemma near-shouts as she bustles into the guest suite. “Soňa, I need to - Soňa?”

Soňa is sitting at the dressing table, vacantly staring at her own reflection, and she looks strangely melancholy. That’s not her usual state - she’s the sort to try to find joy and beauty in everything - and it startles Jemma.

“Soňa?” she repeats softly.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” Soňa asks plaintively. “I know I’m not all fine and fancy like the rest of you, but I do okay putting it on, don’t I?”

“What are you talking about?” Jemma asks, sitting down on the bed behind Soňa and meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be. Did something go wrong with the switch?”

AIDA makes a noise that’s their version of scoffing. “We ran into the queen of Attilan,” they say. “She was very rude before I introduced Soňa as the Senator, and not much better after that.”

“We were showing the princess around,” Soňa says. “She accidentally found us in the library, and we were gonna show her the greenhouse. You haven’t met her, have you? Princess Crystalia. She’s _lovely_.”

Jemma blinks, sorting through all of the information that’s just been dumped on her. “I haven’t met Crystalia, no,” she says. “This is the first time Attilan’s monarchs have visited Naboo. I’ve seen a few holos, though. She’s the blonde, right?”

Soňa nods eagerly. “She looks like sunshine,” she sighs. “And she’s so tall! Her sister is mean, though. Made all her light go out with a few words.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jemma says, frowning. “What happened?”

“She looked at me like I was trash,” Soňa says. “Just ‘cause she didn’t know I was supposed to be someone important.”

“It’s possible she looked at you like that because you were befriending her younger sister,” AIDA points out. “She seemed to be territorial of Crystalia.”

“Yeah, but she was a little less that when she heard I was the Senator,” Soňa counters. “She may not want her sister making friends with anybody, but she _really_ doesn’t want her making friends with a nobody.”

“It’s also possible that she interpreted your intentions as more than friendly,” AIDA says. “She could be one of those that doesn’t approve of a woman and a woman together.”

Soňa blushes a little. “Maybe,” she says.

“ _Were_ your intentions more than friendly?” Jemma asks gently. 

“Maybe,” Soňa repeats. “She’s beautiful, and she looks like she needs love.” 

Jemma melts a little. For all of Soňa’s edgy aesthetic and penchant for violence, she’s really something of a romantic, and though she flirts idly with everyone (Mélinda in particular is subject to this, to her great annoyance) she does have a very genuine interest in connecting with those she finds special and lifting them up.

“Do you want to be the one to give it?” Jemma asks.

“I told her I’d meet her back in the library tomorrow,” Soňa says in a rush. “But she thinks I’m you, and her sister thinks I’m you, and even if her sister doesn’t like my being romantical toward her she’s not going to argue if she thinks I’m you, since you’re important…”

“So you need to keep the switch up,” Jemma supplies, her smile growing.

“Oh, what’s _that_ about?” Soňa asks playfully. “That’s not just you trying to get me set up, there’s something more to it. You run into an old flame out there?”

“No,” Jemma says, rolling her eyes fondly, but she’s kept it in long enough, she has to share. “Not an old one. I met one of the girls who’s in the baking contest.”

“Ooh!” Soňa exclaims. “So she’s awfully _sweet_ , I bet.”

Jemma bats at Soňa’s shoulder, but she’s laughing. “Her name is Daisy,” she says. “She has a shop with her sister, apparently, and this is their first time in the contest. She said one of the other bakers was being nasty to her, and she was so sad about it, I could barely cope.”

“Aw,” Soňa says, pouting sympathetically . “You want me to find him and set him straight?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jemma says quickly, because she knows Soňa would do it, and in a way that wasn’t temporary. “I think she’s going to do that herself, just by upstaging him.”

“It would also draw suspicion to this Daisy if the competitor who had it out for her were to mysteriously disappear,” AIDA muses.

“Yeah, yeah,” Soňa sighs. “Maybe after the contest?”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Jemma says, trying to move past the threat of violence, “I agreed to meet her tomorrow to explore the festival. So switching is in both our interests.”

* * *

“Finally!” Crystalia exclaims as Soňa and AIDA enter the library the next day. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come after all.”

Soňa resists the urge to make a crude joke focusing on the other woman’s choice of verbs (she’s clearly not the kind of person who’d appreciate that) and instead offers a reassuring smile. “Of course I did,” she says, her enthusiasm causing her Annelie voice to lilt just a little more than usual. “I keep my promises, princess.”

Crystalia giggles. “You don’t need to call me that,” she says. “I’m only as special as anyone else.”

That makes Soňa smile. It’s not “I’m not special,” like some people say when they’re trying to be humble, it’s “everyone is special,” which is something that Soňa also believes (or wants to believe, anyway - she’s met more than a few painfully mundane beings that challenge the idea simply by existing). “Alright, Crystalia,” she says. 

“That’s much better,” Crystalia declares, coming over and squeezing Soňa’s hand with easy affection.

“Where would you like to begin the tour, Crystalia?” AIDA asks politely as they set out. 

“Oh, wherever you like,” Crystalia says eagerly. “I think the palace is beautiful. I _would_ like to visit the greenhouse, but we can see it whenever we get there.”

Soňa nods. “Are you a botanist, Crystalia?” she asks, sort of playful but also sort of serious.

“No, I’m not really anything like that,” Crystalia says lightly. “It's just that all of the hills and trees and lakes here are so lovely from a distance. Attilan doesn’t really have that.”

“I can’t imagine growing up without greenery around me,” Soňa says, because even though she _can_ (she’s done a fair bit of traveling, but she’s a child of the Coruscant underworld through and through) she knows it’s the kind of thing Jemma would say. Crystalia seems very much the nature sort, too, all bright and light as she is. “What is Attilan like, then?”

“A lot of mining colonies,” Crystalia says, making a face. “The cities are very industrial, too, or at least they look that way. I’m not allowed to go very many places because my sister says it’s unsafe.”

Soňa makes a face, too. “Does your sister have that much say in what you do?”

Crystalia sighs. “Our parents died when I was still a child, and she’s practically raised me,” she says. “I know she just wants to protect me, but…”

“But sometimes you just want to get out and really live?” Soňa supplies (that too is something she’s never struggled with, being free to do whatever she likes for most of her life, but she knows it about from Jemma’s wistful musings).

“Yes!” Crystalia exclaims, wrinkling her nose. (The word Soňa thinks of is “lamenting.” Crystalia is lamenting her situation, even if she wouldn’t admit it.) “Exactly that. I want to know more of the world than what I see in books or when I’m looking out my window.”

“Lucky your sister brought you along, then,” Soňa offers. “To see Naboo. It’s a beautiful planet, and I don’t just say that because I’m biased.”

“It is,” Crystalia agrees, seeming happier now. “There’s so much color and life here. Our palace looks like it’s made of permacrete.”

Ahead of them, AIDA makes another of their indignant beeping noises, and Soňa can’t help but snort inelegantly. “That wouldn’t suit you at all,” she says when she manages to compose herself. “You’re so full of life.”

“Thank you,” Crystalia chirps, blessedly unfazed by the strange compliment.

AIDA turns back to the pair of them, head canted slightly. “If you’ll look to your right, Princess Crystalia,” they say, “there’s a particularly exquisite view of the waterfalls…”

* * *

“Hey!” Daisy calls, waving a little too eagerly as Jemma approaches. “You seemed like the kind of girl who’d be early, so I tried to be early too.”

Jemma chuckles. “Good guess,” she says. “It used to drive my friends crazy. I’d always be the first one at parties.” She shrugs self-effacingly. “I got very good at helping set up snack tables.”

“You’re adorable,” Daisy says without really thinking, then her eyes go wide and she backtracks, “That’s adorable. That’s.”

A little too quickly, Jemma says, “If you wanted, I would be comfortable with you thinking I’m adorable as well.” She’s not really sure where this is going, but she wouldn’t have agreed to this if she wasn’t interested in flirtation at the very least.

“Oh, good,” Daisy laughs. “Because that was the flimsiest save I’ve ever tried to make.” She holds out her hand hopefully. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Jemma says, taking Daisy’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Do you have anything you absolutely need to get today? I crossed off most of my list yesterday, except my father and brother. They’re impossible to shop for.”

“Too picky, or not picky enough?” Daisy asks.

“Somehow both,” Jemma says, laughing. “They’re both the sorts who say they’ll like anything, but they also say they don’t need anything. They’re far too practical.”

“Oh, that’s rough,” Daisy says. “What are they like? What do they do?”

“My father’s in upper management at Plasma Energy Engineering,” Jemma says sheepishly, not wanting to sound as if she’s bragging (she’s not; while her father’s job meant she grew up very comfortably, and she appreciates that, she’s never liked the corporate structure of the company). “My brother is a professor of biotechnology at the university.”

Daisy whistles through her teeth. “So you’re all a bunch of fancy scientists,” she says, sounding impressed. “What does your mom do, design the royal starships?”

“She’s a medical doctor, actually,” Jemma says, tucking hair behind her ear. “I always thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but I, ah. I got too interested in too many other things.”

This isn’t untrue, though it’s more complicated than she can say; she’d been recruited for Queen Valeria’s pool of handmaidens straight out of the Royal House of Learning, suggested by a professor who believed her clever enough to take on any challenge (and knew she was a close enough physical match to the queen to qualify). Her parents had fretted - she was and is more of a thinker than a fighter - and even gotten angry - that happened when she chose to go to the Senate instead of coming home and focusing on her studies like they’d hoped - but by then she was devoted enough to the idea of helping others in a direct way. She’s young, she still has plenty of time to settle down and be a doctor or the like. This is all too much, and too revealing, to share with Daisy, though.

Especially with the sort of awed way Daisy is looking at her - the way she specifically sneaked out and shirked her Senator persona to avoid. “Oh, dear,” she mumbles.

“What’s wrong?” Daisy asks, brows furrowing.

“I don’t mean to - I don’t know, to make it sound like I think myself superior,” Jemma says softly. “Or like I’m trying to impress you, or -”

“You don’t have to hide parts of yourself just to please me,” Daisy says, stopping and turning to look Jemma in the eyes to emphasize how serious she is. “I think it’s great that you’re so passionate. I feel a little out of my depth, but that’s just because I’ve never been an academic.”

“Well, but you’re so creative!” Jemma exclaims. “I can barely feed myself, let alone bake well enough to have a shop and enter an elite contest. I like being around artistic things, but I could never do what you do. Everyone’s strengths are different.”

Daisy blinks, genuinely shocked that someone she just met yesterday is being so kind to her with so little prompting. “Thank you?” she chuckles. “I mean, thank you. I swear I wasn’t hunting for compliments.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve them,” Jemma insists.

“You’re absurdly sweet,” Daisy declares. “C’mon, let’s start shopping.”

* * *

“What’s it like in the Senate?” Crystalia asks thoughtfully. They’ve exhausted all of the interesting locations inside the palace, including the greenhouse, and now, given Crystalia’s enthusiasm for nature, they’ve made their way toward the royal gardens (AIDA stands watch by the door back into the palace, trying to give them privacy). She’s eagerly bending to examine every last flower and bush, looking blissful, and Soňa keeps grinning like an idiot as she watches this.

She’s so caught up that she has to take a second to process the question. “What part of it?” she asks, mostly to buy herself time to think of a decent response.

“Oh, anything,” Crystalia says, sniffing somehow gracefully at a cluster of Rominaria flowers. “Do you get to make laws? Where do you live? Is the Senate chamber as imposing as it looks in holos?”

Of Jemma’s handmaidens, Soňa is objectively the one who knows the least about lawmaking processes, though she does have a head for behind-the-scenes strategizing (which isn’t very polite). She can answer all of those questions, though, simple as they are, so she begins to do just that. “We were provided with sizable apartments near the Senate building when we arrived,” she says. “Myself, my handmaidens, my security detail, and AIDA, of course. They aren’t the grandest, but we’ve managed to make them feel enough like home.”

“That’s important,” Crystalia agrees. “My sister gave me my own apartments in the palace when I got old enough, and I like being there much better than I like being anywhere else. I made sure to include lots of colors, ones like in gemstones.”

“You must like those,” Soňa says, “being sort of named after them.”

Crystalia giggles. “Sort of,” she says. “But I also just think they’re pretty, the same way flowers are pretty. They make things a bit brighter, you know?”

Soňa nods. “What’s your favorite?” she asks.

“I think firegems are beautiful, actually,” Crystalia says eagerly, talking a little too fast. “I know they’re awfully dangerous, but they’re so lovely! There used to be a mine on Attilan where you could find them, but it got boarded up since they’re illegal in the Republic. My sister has a whole room of them in the palace basement, though.” 

Soňa blinks, a little surprised by the information. She’s seen a fair few firegems in her day - she’s never smuggled them herself, but she’s crossed paths with a few beings that have - and she agrees that they’re beautiful, but she hadn’t expected a pretty princess like Crystalia to gush about them - or admit her sister is hoarding them. Senator Annelie has no reason to have seen firegems in real life, though, so all Soňa lets herself say is, “I’ve seen holos of those. There was one that glowed almost the color of your hair.”

Crystalia’s cheeks go bright pink. “Thank you,” she says.

Soňa enjoys that reaction for a moment before taking pity on the girl and changing the subject. “The Senate building is fairly large,” she says casually, “but it’s not too hard to navigate. Lots of signs, lots of guards and droids if you don’t pay attention to signs.”

“My,” Crystalia says. “The room where you all meet, though, that’s got to be enormous.”

“It is,” Soňa says. She doesn’t usually go in with Jemma during sessions, she’s more useful staying back in the apartments and monitoring the HoloNet for relevant information, but she _has_ gone, and she still remembers how overwhelmed she felt the first time. “It’s taller than any room I’d ever been in before.”

“Oh, my,” Crystalia murmurs, sitting on a marble bench and gesturing for Soňa to join her.

“It’s very impressive,” Soňa muses, “but sometimes I wish it were more personal. Unless someone is presenting, it can be hard to see them, to gauge their reactions.” Since a part of her work for Jemma involves helping her figure out how to interpret and manage those reactions, this is something she can say from the heart.

“That makes sense,” Crystalia says, then adds with a little laugh, “Sometimes I have difficulty reading people I _can_ see properly. I can’t even imagine.”

“There’s a lot of recording things and playing them back,” Soňa admits. “Getting the others to help me analyze what’s being said, or what isn’t being said, and _how_ it’s said.” She’s usually one of the ones analyzing it, so she knows this well.

“How complicated,” Crystalia exclaims. “You must be very clever, to keep up with all of it.”

“Thank you,” Soňa says, more sheepishly than she usually would. (Jemma is humbler than her, she knows that.) “I try, anyhow. I haven’t presented any measures to the Senate yet, but I’ve been on a couple of committees that did.”

“That sounds so exciting,” Crystalia says eagerly, grabbing Soňa’s hands. “Did they go over? What’s it like having people listen to your ideas like that?”

There’s something underneath that question, and it only takes Soňa a moment to figure out: Crystalia isn’t used to being listened to. It’s enough to break Soňa’s heart. “It’s thrilling,” Soňa says, keeping her fingers twined with Crystalia’s. “Knowing we’re really doing something to help the galaxy. Everyone should get that sort of chance.”

Crystalia laughs nervously, which tells Soňa her guess is accurate. “That’s very admirable,” she says. “I’d love to be able to make a difference, even in a small way, but I don’t know where I’d begin.”

“Can’t you ask your sister to find something for you?” Soňa asks.

“Medusalith doesn’t take me seriously, I don’t think,” Crystalia admits softly. “She likes to include me when she needs someone else to smile and wave, or when she thinks that my dog will make us seem more approachable.”

“You have a dog?” Soňa asks, raising an eyebrow. It’s a tangent, but this surprises her almost as much as the firegems.

Crystalia nods, and some of the light comes back in her eyes. “He’s a very good boy,” she says earnestly. “I don’t know what kind of dog he is, I’ve never seen any others like him, but he’s wonderful. His name is Lockjaw.”

Soňa giggles. “That’s a silly name,” she says. “He sounds wonderful, though. I’m glad you have him.”

“I’m glad too,” Crystalia says. “He’s very fuzzy and nice to pet, not like a lot of the dogs you see running around, and he’s gigantic, with a big wrinkly face. He loves me unconditionally.”

“Good,” Soňa says. “You’re very lovable, Crystalia.”

* * *

“Dais,” comes a voice from behind them, and Daisy and Jemma both set down the painted pottery they’ve been examining and whirl around to look. It’s Kora, carrying a couple of bags of her own and looking like she’s about to stir up trouble.

“Oh,” Daisy says, sounding a little disappointed, “do you need me back at the studio for something?”

“No,” Kora says. “Can’t a girl just say hello to her baby sister?”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “I’m not that much younger than you,” she says (like she always does).

Kora shrugs this off and flashes a grin at Jemma. “So, is this _her_?” she asks, her voice playful.

“ _Kora_ ,” Daisy yelps, hiding her face behind her hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kora says, sounding pleased. She holds a hand out to Jemma. “I’m Kora. It’s a pleasure to meet the girl who’s got my baby sister so flustered.”

Jemma raises an eyebrow as she shakes Kora’s hand. “Flustered, hm?” she says, smirking.

“Impossibly,” Kora agrees, mock-confidentially. “I haven’t seen her like this since we were kids. It’s cute, really.”

“You can stop,” Daisy groans. “Please. I’ll pay you to stop.”

“I don’t mind it,” Jemma offers shyly, before she can second-guess herself. “Well, I don’t like that you’re upset, but I don’t mind what she’s saying. I don’t mind you being, ah… interested. I am too.”

“She agreed to meet you,” Kora points out, “this should all go without saying.”

Daisy chews her lip, then decides the easiest thing to do is to ignore her sister and say, “I’m just not used to having this much good luck at once.”

Jemma grins. She’s starting to feel like she’s in over her head, but she’ll worry about the details later. She deserves to enjoy herself.


	3. gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy and Kora participate in the baking competition; Jemma and Soňa come clean about their identities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Happy belated Life Day/etc., y'all!
> 
> This chapter mentions, uh, everyone again and introduces some new ones, so I'm just going to give you the whole cast list again, plus the updates. The few who don't appear onscreen are in italics.
> 
> Birdie Morrisà, a pilot in the Royal Naboo Security Forces assigned to Jemma; Karīna's partner (Bobbi)  
> Mélinda Měi, a captain employed in the Royal Naboo Security Forces and as head of Jemma's security detail; Màruxa's partner (Melinda)  
> Jemma Annelie Símonía, the Senator from Naboo; Daisy's new partner (Jemma)  
> AIDA, a droid working with Jemma (AIDA)  
> Calla Hanniell, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma (Callie)  
> Abira Jolezka, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma (Abby)  
> Soňa Bliss, a handmaiden and decoy for Jemma; Crystalia's new partner (Snowflake)  
> Jayna Valeria Fòsfore, the current reigning Queen of Naboo; Thor's new partner (Jane)  
> Dariya Luděk, a handmaiden and decoy for Jayna (Darcy)  
> Pýpra Peŕillope, a handmaiden and decoy for Jayna (Piper)  
> Daisy Shao, a Force-sensitive baker from Naboo; Kora's sister, Jiaying's daughter, and Jemma's new partner (Daisy)  
> Kora Shao, a Force-sensitive baker from Naboo; Daisy's sister and Jiaying's daughter (Kora)  
> Jiaying Shao, a Force-sensitive philanthropist living on Naboo; Daisy and Kora's mother  
> Gratian Warinhard, a baker from Tythe (Ward)  
> Wörnher Strohkirch, a baker from Tythe (Werner)  
> Ernő Köneževig, a popular television presenter from Naboo (Ernest Koenig)  
> E3-CO, a droid working with Ernő (Enoch)  
> Rhoxane Glaƶyere, a baker from Herdessa; Olesja's partner (Roxy)  
> Olesja Paçarizh, a baker from Herdessa; Rhoxane's partner (Olga)  
> Màruxa Hillevie, an officer of the Royal Naboo Security Forces; Mélinda's partner (Maria)  
> Karīna Pal’las, a historian from Naboo; Birdie's partner (Kara)  
> Crystalia Amaquelin, the Princess of Attilan; Medusalith's sister and Soňa's new partner (Crystal)  
> Medusalith Amaquelin, the Queen of Attilan; Crystalia's sister (Medusa)  
> Thor Woðinzenn, the Prince of Asgard; Jane's new partner (Thor)  
> Siví Liästryt, the head of Thor's security detail (Sif)  
> An'twon Triumph, the Senator from Alderaan; Joseff's partner (Trip)  
>  _Joseff Gufendolinés, an Alderaanian political advisor; An'twon's partner (Joey)  
>  Alfonzoh Makhele, the Prince-consort of Alderaan; Elena's partner (Mack)  
> Elena Roquina, the Queen of Alderaan; Alfonzoh's partner (Elena)_
> 
> Even though I didn't really include them in this story, I have a lot of thoughts about Elena and Mack as the Organas. Mack isn't in the Senate like Bail (because Trip is) and Elena doesn't have synthetic lungs/heart like Breha (because she has her robot arms) but they're just as awesome and revolutionary and probably going to adopt awesome kid/s in the future. I don't have immediate plans to write more stuff in this universe, but rest assured that I never plan on Alderaan exploding. I love Alderaan almost as much as I love Naboo.

“Sounds like you’re really interested in this girl,” An’twon says, his grin visible even through the staticky holo AIDA has rigged up.

“She’s hopeless,” Calla groans from across the room, where she and the other handmaidens are doing spa treatments for each other (Jemma’s own fingernails are drying after having been lacquered).

“They both are,” Abira adds. “Jemma and Soňa, too. It’s ridiculous how moon-eyed they are.”

Soňa scoffs and Jemma waves their remarks off as dismissively as possible. “I am,” she says, “but I’m not sure it can go anywhere. She’s here, and I’ll be back to Coruscant in no time…”

“Joseff and I manage to make the distance work,” An’twon points out, chuckling.

“Well, Alderaan is right nearby, though,” Jemma dithers. “It’s much easier for you to dash home for a few days, or for him to come see you. And he’s got access to the queen’s ships, too!”

An’twon rolls his eyes fondly. He and Joseff are both longtime friends and confidantes of Alderaan’s queen, Elena Roquina, and her husband Alfonzoh, and they _have_ availed themselves of smaller royal transports for rendezvouses in the past, but he knows they’d manage regardless of that. In that spirit, he says to Jemma, “You find ways if you’re really interested.”

“Well, yes,” Jemma says, because of course An’twon knows how stubborn she is about her interests and goals, “but…”

“But?” An’twon asks softly, seeing the subtle change in Jemma’s expression.

“But what if she’s not looking for more than a little fling?” Jemma whispers. “I thought I might be okay with that, at first, but now I… Or - or what if, when she finds out I’ve been keeping my life secret from her and she’s disgusted, what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me?”

“Then she’s not who you’re looking for,” An’twon says simply. “If she wants something different than you, it’s not worth pursuing. And if she doesn’t understand why you have to be selective about who you share things with, it’s not worth pursuing either. It’s just not practical.”

“But I feel so rotten about lying,” Jemma sighs.

“It’s not as if you’re doing it for fun,” An’twon points out. “If you want to have an ongoing relationship with this girl, she’ll have to understand the hazards of your profession.” 

Soňa lets out a heavy breath. “‘Sides,” she says, “you’re _more_ elegant than she thought, not less. There’s no way a girl could get mad about that, not like…”

“Soňa, your princess isn’t going to hate you for being a senator’s support and not a senator,” Calla says, sounding a little exasperated (only because they’ve had this discussion already). “And her sister sounds like a kriffing snob whose opinion shouldn’t matter anyway.”

“But if it keeps me apart from Crystalia, it _does_ matter,” Soňa groans.

“This whole switch was your idea,” Abira points out, not unkindly.

“I did it for Jemma, and I don’t regret it!” Soňa exclaims passionately. “I _can_ fix this, with Crystalia and her sister, I just -”

“You cannot kill the queen of Attilan,” AIDA and Jemma say at the same time, suspecting (correctly) where this is going.

“But I _don’t like her_!” Soňa whines. “I’d be giving her a chance to start over as something more beautiful!”

“I think this is my cue to sign off,” An’twon interrupts, chuckling. “I should probably keep myself out of any regicidal plots, even hypothetical ones. Talk later, Jemma?”

“Talk later,” Jemma agrees. “Sorry we’ve devolved into chaos over here. Send Joseff our love and the queen our respectful good wishes.”

They end the communication and Jemma spins around to fix Soňa with a serious expression. “Do you really think Medusalith will have such a poor reaction?” she asks.

“Yes,” Soňa says. “She’s mean, and she keeps Crystalia so sheltered, and she’s hoarding firegems, and I can just _tell_ she doesn’t like me, even thinking I’m someone proper fancy.”

“It’s illegal to sell and transport firegems,” AIDA remarks. “Simply keeping them to oneself would be more difficult to regulate or to judge by any moral standard.”

“They come from a mining colony on Attilan, I guess,” Soňa says doubtfully. “‘Parently there’s a lot of those, and it doesn’t sound like they’re very nice places.”

“Are they ever?” Abira asks with a disgusted sniff.

“I don’t think the firegems are really much of an issue,” Jemma says with a patient, if weary, smile. “She doesn’t sound like a very nice woman, but Crystalia _is_ an adult who can ultimately make her own decisions. Right?” She looks terrified for a moment at the thought of Soňa - or anyone - tangling up with someone underage.

“She is,” Soňa promises; while she may have her twists, she’s no cradle-robber. “I think she’s just scared. She doesn’t have any other family anymore, and I’m not sure she’d want me to become that.”

“Big jump, Soňa,” Calla points out.

“I know what I said, and I meant it,” Soňa says petulantly. “Sometimes you can tell right away when you love someone. I can tell. Jemma’s just as bad, all worrying about commitment to her girl, so where’s her hard time?”

“Jemma’s overthinking, just like always,” Calla corrects, smiling to show it’s not meant as a dig. “You sound like you’re a step away from proposing marriage.”

“I’m trying to plan!” Jemma exclaims in exasperation, over Soňa yelping in annoyance. “I don’t really have the luxury of just _winging it_ when it comes to this sort of thing. And besides, I’d rather not waste my little free time on something that can’t go anywhere.”

“So it sounds like you have to come clean,” Abira remarks. “The both of you. You won’t know what comes next until you do.”

* * *

Jayna invites Jemma and her girls to breakfast the next morning, and Jemma (after ensuring that the invitation wasn’t also extended to the delegation from Attilan, lest things get complicated) gladly agrees. She doesn’t want to bother Daisy before her competition, and she hasn’t spent nearly enough time with her queen and close friend yet.

Most of Jayna’s people have other plans, but Dariya appears at breakfast and Pýpra does as well, both of them bombarding Jemma with hugs and eager questions about Coruscant and the Senate (Abira and Calla and Soňa help answer to the best of their ability and are met with fond teasing from the senior handmaidens). When Jayna finally appears, it’s - to Jemma’s surprise - on the arm of a handsome, muscled blond man in an outfit somewhere between armor and classical formalwear, and with another woman, nearly the same height as the man, following behind them and looking wry.

“Ooh, looks like there’s some other guests after all,” Soňa chirps, grinning mischievously (until Jemma nudges her to bring her down - Jayna isn’t used to her brand of teasing, after all).

Jayna’s cheeks flush, but she nods. “This is Thor Woðinzenn, crown prince of Asgard,” she explains, nodding to her companion. “He accompanied his father on their diplomatic mission, much as Attilan’s princess did her sister.”

“And this,” Thor says grandly, gesturing to the woman behind them, “is Siví Liästryt, my best friend and the captain of my personal guard. She accompanies _me_ most everywhere I go.”

Siví rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Even when I’d much rather leave you to your own folly,” she says. “Or your own personal entanglements.” She says this second part with the kind of wry smile that would drive Jemma wild if she wasn’t already so preoccupied with thoughts of Daisy.

“Oh, you enjoy it,” Thor teases. Then he turns to Jemma and her girls, grinning warmly. “Senator Annelie, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you and yours.”

Jemma blushes. She’s only rarely attracted to men, but this Thor is so friendly that it’s hard not to feel pleasantly overwhelmed by his attention. “Please, just call me Jemma if we’re in private,” she says. “Some days it feels like Annelie is just a character I play.”

“Jemma, then,” Thor says. “And…”

“Soňa, Calla, and I’m Abira,” says Abira, gesturing to the other girls and then herself.

“We’re a little bit security and a little bit everything else,” Calla explains, tossing her head.

“Like us, but with less ceremony,” Dariya provides helpfully.

“A _lot_ less,” Soňa adds. “If looking at me wasn’t proof enough of that.” She doesn’t even mean it in the self-deprecating way she has since meeting Crystalia and her judgmental sister; since they’re technically off-duty, she’s dressed in the punk style she prefers.

Thor laughs jovially. “You seem very unique,” he says, then he turns to Dariya and Pýpra and adds, “Not that you two are not!”

Pýpra laughs. She’s got shorter hair and tanner skin than the rest of Jayna’s handmaidens, not to mention a more tomboyish air, so it makes sense for her to reply. “It’s sweet of you to reassure us,” she says. “I don’t know that we need it, but…”

“Haven’t you figured him out by now?” Dariya asks with a coy smirk. “He’s sweet by default. Why else would our queen be keeping him around?”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Jayna says loudly, blushing. “Let’s sit, shall we? And stop teasing my - stop teasing the prince.”

This time it’s Jemma whose eyes go wide. “ _Your_?” she echoes.

“Let’s sit,” Jayna repeats. They all do - Jayna and Jemma at either end, Jemma’s girls on either side of her, Jayna’s girls to her right and Thor and Siví to her left - and once their breakfast is brought out and they’ve all taken a few bites, Jayna clears her throat and says, “Were you planning on attending the baking competition today, Jemma?”

“Yes,” Jemma says, blinking, looking from side to side and making panicked eye contact with Abira and Soňa. “I, the…”

“I’ve been asked to hand out the prizes when it’s finished,” Jayna says, and after a loaded pause, she adds, “Or rather, _we_ have. If that’s alright with you.”

“I, ah,” Jemma stammers, panicking as she tries to figure out how she’s going to untangle the mess she’s made for herself (not to mention the mess Soňa is in by extension).

“I could tell them you’re not up for it, but I think they’ve already notified the television station,” Jayna says, frowning. “It’ll only be for a few minutes, and you can stand behind me -”

Jemma may be dithering, but Soňa has no such problem, because before Jayna’s even finished talking she blurts out, “Jemma wanted to go exploring the first day we were here, so we switched places, ‘cept when we were switched I ran into Princess Crystalia and then AIDA introduced me to Queen Medusalith as the Senator to make me seem more respectable because I _really_ like Crystalia, and Jemma met one of the bakers in the competition, but _she_ thinks Jemma is a - well, a someone who’s not -”

“I told her I’m a scientist who’s been offworld,” Jemma says. “And I’m afraid that if I come clean, she’ll be mad, but if I’m meant to present the awards she’s going to find out, so I should just tell her, but she’s going to be busy all morning preparing, so I’m not sure how I would manage.”

“And I think Crystalia will like me no matter what, but her sister is so _mean_ ,” Soňa adds quickly. “At least she was to me.”

Jayna takes this all in (when she starts frowning, Thor reaches to take her hand and Dariya and Pýpra nudge each other). Finally she asks, “You wouldn’t want to keep the switch up on television, would you?”

Jemma shakes her head. “I’d rather be honest,” she says. “I’m just worried, because the timing is awful. If I tell Daisy before she competes, she’ll think my being the Senator had something to do with how she places, or she won’t have her head on straight because she’ll be thinking about my confession, but if we just go up there and I wave awkwardly she’s going to know I lied to her, and what if she gets angry in front of an audience?”

“Your lie was for your own safety, was it not?” Thor asks (Jayna seems almost as overwhelmed as Jemma, being nearly as bad with matters of the heart). 

“It was,” Jemma agrees. “But we’ve…”

“Jem, it’s only been two days,” Abira points out. “No matter how much you like this girl, that isn’t long at all. It’s reasonable you haven’t told her a secret that could compromise both of you after _two days_.”

“Besides,” Calla adds, “she clearly likes you, and she’ll probably be alright with it. Wasn’t that what An’twon said? You trust him and all of us, right?”

“But - but the logistics,” Jemma squeaks.

Dariya smiles at her, patient when a lesser woman might get exasperated. “Has my social coaching ever failed you before?” she asks. 

* * *

“Welcome, everyone, to the seventieth annual Naboo Arts Festival cake-baking competition,” announces Ernő Köneževig. He’s a television presenter known for being somehow jovial and sardonic at the same time, the kind of man who looks just a little bit _off_ without one of his signature cigarras in hand (as is the case here, in the presence of bakers). “Once I start the timer, our teams will have three hours to bake and decorate their cakes before they’re presented to the judges.”

“You ready for this?” Kora asks Daisy under her breath.

“No,” Daisy says, “but I’m gonna do it anyway.” 

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” calls Ernő, grinning and revving the crowd up so they chant along with him. “Seven! Six! Five! Four!”

“Here goes nothing,” Kora deadpans.

“Three! Two! One! _Go_!”

The starting bell rings and the stage becomes a flurry of activity. Daisy and Kora can sense each other’s nerves, but nobody around them would be able to tell: they’re just moving in sync to ready the ingredients for their gingerbread sweetcake.

Another thing that the other competitors can’t know is that they’re communicating telepathically. It’s a Force-sensitivity thing. Their only training in the Force comes from what their mother has figured out, and their strengths are all different (their mother is a healer, while Kora is most gifted with light and electricity and Daisy manipulates the earth) but the three of them have always shared a moderately strong mental link. It’s not something they utilize regularly - mostly out of respect for each other’s privacy - but when they’re in chaotic situations like this, it’s often easier for Daisy and Kora to talk this way.

Daisy’s already preparing their four cake pans when she suggests to Kora, _“Get started on the butter?”_

Kora nods, but after just a second she smacks Daisy in the arm. _“What the foito?”_ she asks, more panicked than she’d let herself be out loud. 

It only takes Daisy a second to notice what’s caught Kora’s attention. The cord between their mixer and the power source has been dramatically, irreparably cut. It’s a very simple sabotage, but an effective one; they’ll have to take it to a shop for the repair, and they definitely don’t have the time to do that. 

Daisy’s jaw tightens and she spins around to look at Gratian Warinhard. _“That crikking ass!”_ Sure enough, he’s looking back at her with an aggravatingly faux-innocent expression, the kind he’d only need if he knew she had a reason to suspect him of something.

Kora’s eyes flash gold just like they did the first day - a sure sign her anger is making her powers flare. _“He must have an incredibly low opinion of his own talent,”_ she muses. _“Going out of his way to mess with us like this.”_

 _“He knows there’s no way to prove he did it,”_ Daisy muses, clenching her fists to keep from making their equipment shake with _her_ powers. _“He’s just so confident.”_

 _“What do we do?”_ Kora asks, raising her eyebrow.

Daisy sighs out loud, then reaches for a whisk. _“You know what.”_

 _“Stir, whip?”_ Kora offers.

“ _Stir, whip,”_ Daisy agrees, and they set about whipping, whipping, and stirring.

* * *

The competitors are in the final stretch when Jayna, Dariya, Pýpra, Jemma, Calla, and Abira are brought to meet Ernő and his producer, a chrome-plated droid identified as E3-CO. “Are all of you going on stage?” the droid asks, sounding mildly worried.

“We don’t have to,” Dariya says with a wry smile. “We just follow her around.”

“Same with us,” Calla chimes in. 

“It would almost certainly crowd the stage,” E3-CO says apologetically. “You will be safe waiting backstage, as the queen and senator will be safe onstage with Ernő. There are also guards positioned around the studio if further protection is needed.”

Jemma blinks. “Is that really a concern at the baking competition?” she asks.

“We feel it is better to be safe than sorry,” E3-CO replies.

Jayna and Jemma are briefed on how things will go as their handmaidens hang back slightly, and Abira notices a thin, striking woman watching the competitors intently. She seems fixated on Jemma’s object of infatuation, so Abira strikes up a conversation. “Do you know Daisy?” she asks quietly.

The woman offers Abira a smile. “Daisy and Kora are my daughters,” she says, obviously proud.

“Oh!” Abira exclaims. She didn’t expect that, largely because the woman doesn’t look nearly old enough to have adult daughters. “That’s wonderful. They’re clearly very talented.”

“They are.” The woman smiles again. “How do you know them?”

“I don’t, technically,” Abira says. “My, ah, my friend has gotten to know Daisy -”

“Abira,” Jemma says, hurrying over as if she’s sensed herself being talked about. “There you are. Do you have any spare hairpins? One of my braids has, ah…” She gestures to the braid in question, coming loose from its place pinned to the back of her head.

Abira nods and pulls some pins from the little purse around her waist. “Of course,” she says, fixing the braid back in place.

That tended, Jemma flashes a smile at the woman and says, “Hello, I’m -”

“This is Daisy’s mother,” Abira interrupts, expecting Jemma will want that information.

“Jiaying,” the woman says. “My name is Jiaying Shao. It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

“Abira,” says Abira, “and this is my friend, ah…” She pauses, waiting for Jemma to decide how she wants to take this.

“Jemma,” says Jemma quickly. “Please, call me Jemma.”

Jiaying blinks twice, then offers another smile. “Jemma, hm? It’s certainly more casual than Senator Annelie,” she says, with nothing accusatory in her tone, because of course she overheard the discussion with Ernő and E3-CO.

Jemma’s face falls. “Daisy doesn’t realize, either,” she murmurs, and it all comes spilling out. “We met when I was, ah, in civilian guise, because it’s safer for me to go out like that, but then we got on so well and I didn’t want to upset things by acting like I thought myself more important than her or something, and then I didn’t want to tell her before the competition and distract her from her work, and -”

“Oh, my,” Jiaying says, her gaze drifting to a point behind her and then back to Jemma. “If I know my Daisy, she’ll understand why you hid the truth,” she continues, her voice soft. “But perhaps you should tell her yourself.”

“I want to,” Jemma cries despairingly, but then Jiaying places a gentle hand on her shoulder and turns her around to face, in fact, Daisy, who’s staring at her, mouth agape. (The contestants have all retired backstage so the judges can make their decision.)

Abira carefully steps back, rejoining Calla and the others (and Kora, who seems particularly riveted by the drama of this).

“Daisy,” Jemma gasps. “Daisy, I didn’t mean to deceive you, it just got so out of hand, I just -”

“I’m not upset,” Daisy says softly, taking Jemma’s hands in hers. “Why would you think I would be?”

“Because I lied,” Jemma exclaims. “I lied, and I pretended, and -”

“I know enough about how politics work to understand why you had to be undercover,” Daisy says with a cheerful shrug. “I’m not hurt by it. I know you weren’t deceiving me to get your jollies, and I think it’s kind of cute you were so worried about how I’d feel if I knew.”

“Really?” Jemma asks timidly. “I just… I quite like you, Daisy, and I think I was afraid of facing where we go from here because I was enjoying just being around you.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Daisy says assuredly. “Whether you’re a traveling scientist or a galactic senator, we’d still be doing things long-distance for a while, I’m alright with that. I don’t want to stop you doing what you do.”

“And I don’t want you to stop doing what you do either!” Jemma says. “I want you to be happy, but I want to be part of what makes you happy, too.”

“You are,” Daisy says, and she leans in to kiss Jemma on the lips.

“Contestants to the stage!” E3-CO calls. “Queen Valeria, Senator Annelie, get the prizes and join me.”

Jemma and Daisy break away, both giggling nervously. “Good luck,” Jemma says. 

“You’ll do wonderfully, girls,” Jiaying says to both Daisy and Kora.

“Thank you,” Daisy says. “Let’s get out there, Kora, c’mon.” She motions to her sister and they hurry out, and Jayna and Jemma link arms before going to stand with E3-CO and the medals for the contestants. 

“That went well,” Calla muses.

“Jemma was worrying for nothing,” Dariya points out, smirking. “I’m sure you’ve figured out she does that.”

“It’s part of her charm,” Abira agrees.

* * *

“In third place!” Ernő calls, mugging to the audience. “Rhoxane Glaƶyere and Olesja Paçarizh of Herdessa!” 

Two women - a brunette with bangs and red lips and a bleach-blonde with heavy eyeliner - come forward to receive their prizes, only dropping hands when they have to bend for Jayna and Jemma to place the medals around their necks. Both of their smiles are surprisingly shy, considering how confident they seem otherwise. E3-CO calmly explains the spiced glaze cake they prepared to the audience, who politely applaud both the description and the competitors.

“In second place,” Ernő says, “Gratian Warinhard of Tythe and his assistant Wörnher Strohkirch!” 

Gratian looks positively miffed as he comes to get his award, trailed by a nervous-looking blond boy. They both flash insincere smiles at Ernő, but they’re glad to return to their station as E3-CO details their proffered cheffa cake to the audience.

“And in first place, winning this year’s Naboo Arts Festival cake-baking competition,” Ernő grins, raising his eyebrows and pausing for dramatic effect, “Naboo’s own Daisy and Kora Shao!”

Daisy actually screams with delight; Kora squeezes her hand excitedly. They’re both grinning wide as they ever have as they come forward and bow to receive their medals.

“Naboo is lucky to have talented artisans like you,” Jayna says in her smoothest Queen Valeria voice, placing one medal around Daisy’s neck.

“We wish you success in all your endeavors,” Jemma adds, not bothering to use her Senator Annelie voice as she addresses and bemedals Kora.

Daisy straightens and winks at Jemma as E3-CO explains their gingerbread sweetcake to the audience. “I think things are only going to get better from here,” she says.

* * *

Daisy and Jemma seem to magnetize the second they’re off-stage, grabbing each other’s hands and not letting go. Even a snide remark from Gratian Warinhard about nepotism doesn’t shake them: they know it’s not true and he’s just being jealous and awful, and they’re too happy to pay him more mind.

Jemma formally introduces Calla and Abira, then AIDA, then Jayna and Dariya and Pýpra, to Daisy, and Daisy formally introduces Kora and Jiaying to all of them. Thor appears with Siví at his side, then Birdie and Mélinda and their partners Màruxa and Karīna turn up, and they’re all introduced too. Karīna even turns out to be a semi-regular patron of Daisy and Kora’s bakery, and the others all promise to stop by before they leave the planet.

Then Jemma asks, “Where are Soňa and her princess? They came, didn’t they?”

“Yes,” Calla says, puzzled. “I saw them before we went backstage.”

“Oh, dear,” Thor says, looking across the lobby with a frown. “I think I’ve spotted them.”

Medusalith, orange hair blazing and lavender-sleeved arms waving, has cornered Crystalia and Soňa in one of the lobby’s alcove to harangue them. “- and you think you can just _imitate_ someone of import and it will be alright?” she yells, clearly furious.

“Oh, dear,” Jayna echoes, and Jemma dashes across the room, Calla and Abira and AIDA and Daisy all on her heels.

“That’s her _job_ ,” Crystalia exclaims, hands flailing.

“Ex _cuse_ me,” Jemma shouts, stepping in front of Soňa protectively and folding her arms. “What right do you think you have to yell at her like that?”

“Oh,” sniffs Medusalith, looking Jemma over. “ _You’re_ the real senator. You let her steal your identity so she could try to _seduce_ my little sister.”

“She’s my handmaiden and decoy,” Jemma retorts. 

“This is my fault,” AIDA says, tilting their head in the way that means they’re about to say something particularly cutting (Jemma and her handmaidens recognize this, but most wouldn’t). “I introduced Soňa as Senator Annelie not only because she was performing the role but because you didn’t seem inclined to treat her respect if she wasn’t someone, as you said, _of import_.”

Medusalith flushes, like part of her has the good sense to be embarrassed, but she says, “Crystalia can’t consort with every scruffy harpy that crosses her path.”

“ _Crystalia_ can do whatever she wants, she’s a grown woman!” Soňa snaps.

“Besides,” Crystalia exclaims, sticking her chin out defiantly, “Soňa _is_ important. She does valuable work for Naboo and the Galactic Republic, and even if she didn’t, she’s an interesting, passionate person who sees beings for the quality of their soul, not just their wealth or birthright.”

“Soňa was acting in my stead while I explored the festival,” Jemma says. “She made the offer so I could spend some time off-duty, because it’s good for my mental health to have free time and because it’s good for me to spend time amongst the people I serve. She’s clever and loyal, and the fact that the decision led both of us to people we care about is just a bonus.” She smiles at Daisy.

“Oh, you’re like that too,” Medusalith groans.

“I am,” Jemma exclaims. “So is Soňa, and so is Crystalia, and Daisy, and lots of our friends, and there’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Considering yourself the arbiter of appropriate relationships and people is highly indecorous,” AIDA chimes in, smooth like they’re reciting from a textbook. “It’s also antiquated by the cultural standards of Naboo and many other planets in the Republic.”

Medusalith folds her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t expect a _droid_ to understand.”

AIDA whirs indignantly (Calla and Abira both put cautioning hands on their arms, knowing full well that such a noise precludes either angry ranting or outright danger) and Jemma actually gasps. “Don’t you dare speak to them like that!” she exclaims. 

“I suppose this is what happens in a democratic meritocracy,” Medusalith huffs. “Everyone starts thinking they can be just as good if they try hard enough. Come along, Crystalia. I think we’ll be better-served sending _representatives_ to deal with our interplanetary politics from now on.”

“No,” Crystalia says flatly.

“Excuse me?” Medusalith crows.

“No,” Crystalia repeats, but then she falters. “I mean, I’ll have to come home, to get Lockjaw and my things, but I’m not going to let you boss me around like I’m still a child, not anymore! Maybe it’s not what you wanted for me, but I love Soňa and that’s all there is to it. Make _me_ the representative, I’ll happily travel the galaxy, but I can’t be stuck in your shadow anymore.”

Medusalith’s jaw drops, but before she can say anything Soňa looks at Crystalia and asks, “You _love_ me? Really?”

Crystalia nods, smiling shyly. “I do,” she says. “Is that alright?”

“Of course!” Soňa yelps, leaping up to kiss Crystalia on the mouth. “I love you too.”

“Aw,” Daisy murmurs to Jemma, coming to her side (it’s finally appropriate). “It must be in the air.”

“Must be,” Jemma agrees, kissing Daisy gently.

* * *

“...so that’s how our story ended,” Jemma says, leaning her head against Daisy’s. They’re both staring at the holo, looking breathless and lovestruck, and it’s obvious that all of Jemma’s earlier concerns have vanished.

“It’s not an ending, Jem,” Daisy murmurs gently. “It’s a beginning.”

“Well,” An’twon says, “as an expert in long-distance relationships, I can say I’m sure you’re going to work it out.”


End file.
